


For the Man Who Has Everything

by andveryginger, Keldae



Series: Deja New [8]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Double Agents, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, How about just 'Life Day Feels'?, Life Day Angst, Life Day Fluff, RPverse, Secret Relationship, Spies & Secret Agents, non-canon backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andveryginger/pseuds/andveryginger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keldae/pseuds/Keldae
Summary: Surprises can be dangerous in their line of work, but she hopes he likes this one.





	1. Unfinished Business

**Author's Note:**

> This is an epic still in progress, but it is required to be added to the timeline, as it's really a turning point for these two idiots. 
> 
> Takes place between "Promises" and "(Not a) Date Night."
> 
> Joint effort by Keldae and myself. Posted without beta.

_**The Citadel** _  
_**Kaas City, Dromund Kaas** _  
_**3640 BBY | 13 ATC** _

 

“Agent Taerich! You cannot just _barge_ into Her Lordship’s office anytime you feel like it!”

Mairen looked up from her data screen, hearing the call of her assistant, Kieryn Prideaux, in the anteroom. There was the shuffle of robes and feet, followed by the low, rumbling tones of the agent in question. “Watch me, kid…”

Placing aside her stylus, she intertwined her fingers in her lap, settling back to wait. Within a few seconds, she watched the lanky, shadowy form of Prideaux stalking down the corridor into her office, racing to stay ahead of the more substantial, dark-haired agent who appeared to be sauntering behind. Prideaux looked more than a little annoyed. “Agent Taerich to see you, m’lord.”

“Yes, I see that,” she replied. A lopsided grin curled across her lips. “Perhaps, in the future, Kieryn -- provided I’m not in conference -- Agent Taerich won’t need an introduction? I assure you, I would recognize him anywhere.”

Prideaux straightened. “A point I believe most of us in the Citadel are aware of, m’lord,” he said. There was a snide note in his voice, though he attempted to hide it. “But if that is your wish…”

Looking past her assistant, she noted the dangerous gleam to the agent’s hazel eyes, one that sent a spark to all the wrong places. She shifted her attention back to Prideaux, thankful the boy was as Force-blind as the agent himself. “It is.” Her eyes narrowed. “Now -- out. And close the door behind you.”

“Yes, m’lord.” Her assistant bowed, backing out of the room. There was the slightest flicker of a knowing smirk across his features as he past Taerich. It was still there as the door slipped closed just in front of his nose.

“Snivelling little --”

Mairen held up a hand, eyes offering a soft scold. She rose from her seat tapping a few commands into the built-in control pad. That done, she moved to lean against the front of her desk, resting her hands on either side of her hips. Her brows arched as she regarded him. “You were saying?”

The gleam returned as he approached. “I was saying what a snivelling little worm your assistant is,” he continued. She stood as he came closer, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “He’s jealous, you know.”

“Of you? Or of my Force abilities?” she asked and slipped her arms around his neck, allowing her fingers to play in the short hair just above his collar. Her grin widened as he inhaled sharply.

Reanden leaned forward, nuzzling her nose. “Both,” he murmured and she felt his grin against her lips before he kissed her. “He’ll just have to get over it.”

She hummed against him. “Something tells me, _agent_ , that you don’t share well.”

The spy drew back slightly, dark hazel eyes meeting hers. He studied her features for a long moment, and she felt her chest tighten as she watched so many emotions storm through his gaze, almost felt them as her own, with what seemed like a slight nudge against her Force connection. In an instant, however, it was gone and he shook his head. “No, I don’t.” He allowed his lips to twitch breaking a bit of the tension. “I’m told I can be a bit of a dick about it, honestly.”

“Imagine that.”

This drew a snort of laughter from him and Mairen was surprised to sense the levity that accompanied it. He gave her a knowing wink, then withdrew back behind his mental and emotional blocks. His hands slid around to her backside, fingers intertwining over her sacrum as her curves fit against him. His lips teased along her jawline. “I’m going to have to take a raincheck on our plans for tonight,” he said.

She struggled to maintain her composure, but still her voice wavered as she asked, “Oh? New op?”

“Hmm. Meet and greet.” He nipped at her earlobe. “They’re asking for me -- someone I met on a previous op, apparently, with some new information to share.”

Warmth began to pool in her core, her heart beginning to race as blood coursed through her. She raked her fingers through his hair, kissing him and allowing her teeth to graze his lips. “Sure they can be trusted? I’d hate for you to walk into a trap.”

“Well,” he drawled, his hands smoothing over her back, down her ribs, his thumbs brushing against the sides of her breasts, “I’m not getting a bad feeling about it, so I’ll just… keep my eyes open.” He grinned against her skin as she moaned softly.

“Just make sure you do, _Agent_ ,” Mairen whispered. “We have unfinished business.”

“So we do...m’lord.” His lips met hers tenderly, then planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. “We’ll finish this conversation when I get back.”

She smirked at him as he pulled away. “In time for Life Day?”

“I’m hoping so. I promised Sorand his favorite nerf steaks.”

Reanden held her hand in his, and Mairen watched as he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. He released it and turned toward the door.  “My place or yours?” she asked after him.

“Yours,” he tossed over his shoulder. “The bed is more comfortable.”

Mairen was still chuckling as he disappeared down the corridor. As he turned the corner, she sprung into action, shutting down her signal dampener, and grabbing the small bag she had stuffed behind her desk. The hotel promised to prepare everything to her last detail, she thought. If she was lucky, she could make it to Nar Shaddaa before he did.


	2. Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't know what to say. And if there were something else that swelled within his chest, swirled behind his eyes, it was something he could not -- would not name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epic continues.
> 
> Joint effort with Keldae, posted without beta.

_**Nar Shaddaa** _   
_**3640 BBY | 13 ATC** _

 

As he stepped out of the lift, Reanden looked down at the keycard once more, tapping it against the back of the other hand. Nar Shaddaa wasn’t always known for its more luxurious hotels, but there were a few, generally reserved for the best customers of the casinos or crime lords with a penchant for the finer things. This was one such hotel, exorbitantly expensive carpet padding each step, gold leaf detailing the sconces along the corridor. He rather imagined the furniture and linens in each room were equally as extravagant. That made it a very unusual place to meet a contact, he mused, lips pursed. Too refined, too expensive. And yet… there was no uneasy feeling -- no hair standing on the back of his neck, no creeping chill down his spine. He remained attentive and alert as normal on such a seedy world, but the overriding sense of safety was a bizarre shift.

He reached the end of the hall, the number matching his key detailed in molded figures on the door panel. _Corner suite -- another splurge by this mysterious contact_ , he thought. _Who the Hells_ is _this guy?_ A frown creased his brow and he slipped his key into the lock. The door slid aside and, drawing his blaster, he stepped inside… and stopped.

The ridiculously dense carpeting continued into the room, under the lush sofa, and to the far wall that was little more than transparisteel -- floor to ceiling. Pink, orange, and blue neon glowed against the dark sky beyond, casting their shades into the room. Before the glass, a dining table had been placed, set for two, with two pillar candles and a bottle of wine waiting.

He stepped farther into the room and the door closed behind him. The furrow in his brow deepened. _What the…?_ Proceeding cautiously down the short hall into the great room, he turned. A green and gold Life Day holo tree stood in the corner, red bow shimmering in the dim lights; fire crackled in the fireplace a few feet away, along the distant wall.

And there, on the right side of the fireplace, stood Mairen Bel Iblis. She had traded her black and grey-green robes for a deep forest green, silk and velvet enveloping her curves. Contrasted against the robe, her red hair framed her face and both seemed almost radiant. It was a color, he realized, she was born to wear.

His breath left him in a rush.

“I… apologize for the subterfuge,” she said, soft smile flickering across her lips. She took a few steps forward, the robe shifting around her legs. A split offered a glimpse at the creamy skin beneath and his heartbeat quickened. “I know you don't like surprises - - they're dangerous in this line of work - - but I _wanted_ this to be a surprise… a Life Day gift, as it were.”

Her fingers intertwined at her waist and she wrung her hands ever so slightly. He wanted to reach for them, to still them and reassure her, but found he couldn’t yet move; he was transfixed.

“It’s been a little over a year since the war began again,” she continued, “and we’ve both been stretched incredibly thin: You as the loyal agent, me as the loyal Sith lord. But we know that's not who we are. And if we keep going this pace, with these constant pressures, in this environment… We could blow it. Simply put, we need a break.

“We’ve let off some steam often enough in the past few months,” she said, wry grin twitching across her lips as her cheeks reddened slightly, “but we so rarely get to be ourselves. So, inside this room, for the next few days, it’s just us - - Mairen and Reanden - - enjoying each other's company; no spies, no Jedi, no Sith.” She paused, swallowing. “It was the best Life Day gift I could think of. I… hope you don't mind.”

Mairen now stood just before him, green-hazel eyes searching his, expression soft. Opening his mouth to speak, he found himself without a voice and without words. What _could_ he say? This woman, who began as such a thorn in his side, had come to understand him almost as well as he understood himself -- perhaps better. Moreover, she _accepted_ him, his quirks, his gruff personality, and didn’t seek to change him.

Knowing him as she now did, Mairen had seen the fraying around the seams, felt the tension as it rose in his shoulders and tightened across his chest. She then found a way to whisk him away from their concerns -- from the double life they were forced to lead. It had been a lifetime since anyone had looked at him that way, offered to take care of him in such a way. He was awed and humbled. And if there were something else that swelled within his chest, swirled behind his eyes, it was something he could not -- would not name.

A worried gleam rippled through her gaze. “Reanden?” she asked. There was a husky note to her voice, fingers still intertwined at her waist. “Say something?”

“I…” He shook his head and holstered his blaster, then reached his hand across the gap between them. He placed it over hers, curling his fingers slightly and guiding her closer. His other hand found her hair as she approached, fingers sliding deep into the strands. His thumb traced an arc over her cheek. When he finally spoke, his voice emerged as little more than a whisper. “I don’t know what to say,” he managed.

The crease in her brow relaxed, as did the tension in her fingers. She slid her arms slowly around his torso and his left arm slipped automatically around her waist, hand curving over her lower cheek. The velvet was soft and supple under his touch, like her skin, her body heat radiating through the fiber. It sent a charge through him, echoed as she licked her lips and allowed her gaze to dart toward his own. “‘Thank you’ is the generally accepted phrase,” she murmured. “Unless, of course, you’ve _forgotten_ in your old age…”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he said, teasing his lips across hers.  He felt her smile. “Though perhaps it’s better if I just demonstrate my gratitude.” Tightening his arm around her, he curled his fingers in her hair and tugged gently. As suggested, she tilted her head slightly aside and back. Slowly -- deliberately -- he trailed kisses along her neck; rolled his tongue along the sensitive tendon; allowed his teeth to graze over her. She gave a sharp exhale and he could feel her heartbeat stutter.

A lopsided grin curled across his mouth. He had learned what she liked, knew what she wanted. He would spend the next few days giving it to her in every way he knew how… his own little gift to her, and a brilliant way, he thought, to say thank you.


	3. Bittersweet Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can ask. She's earned that much.

_**Nar Shaddaa** _   
_**3640 BBY | 13 ATC** _

The candles, once standing tall, were little more than stubs when they emerged from the bedroom some time later. As Mairen stood by the table, Reanden closed the distance between them, placing his hands on her hips from behind. Her back brushed against his chest and he grinned, brushing her hair aside. His lips pressed softly into the nape of her neck. “And what did the mastermind plan for sustenance?” he murmured against her skin.

She chuckled, withdrawing the cover off the plate. The white ceramic platter was filled with meats, cheeses, and dried fruits -- all things that would keep fairly well over the course of a few hours. “I thought we might get… distracted,” she replied. Reaching over, she pulled the bottle of wine from the ice bath, passing it to him. “Now stop distracting me and make yourself useful.”

“As you wish, m’lord,” he teased, taking the bottle from her. He trailed kisses along her shoulder as he leaned forward, sweeping the opener from the table.

“That was _not_ what I meant, _Agent Taerich_.”

He could her the smile in her voice as he rounded the corner of the table, taking a moment to peel back the seal, and then prep the corkscrew. As he worked, he allowed his gaze to trace her features: the slope of her nose, her cheekbones; the fall of her hair to one side; the swell of her breasts to the curve of her hips. Not for the first time, he was struck by how beautiful she was, how even her inner light glowed and warmed her more than even the firelight. It had been a bit over six months since they had tumbled into this affair, less than six weeks since he had stayed long enough to wake with her next to him. Still he marvelled at the rivalry that gave way to an affair that now gave way to… friendship? Yes, he could go that far. They worked together, depended on one another; talked late into the night sometimes, in between explorations. It was an intimacy he had never expected, and one he was definitely beginning to cherish.

Sensing his attention -- it had to be impossible to miss, he thought -- she cast him a sidelong glance, impish gleam and smile meeting his. “I can practically feel you thinking,” she teased. There was a hint of concern to her expression as she looked to him. “You all right?”

“More than,” he replied. He pulled the cork, waving it briefly under his nose: Light, smooth, with a hint of citrus. “This will work very well with the plate. You chose this?”

“Of course.” She grabbed a round of flatbread and placed it on the plate, then grabbed up a napkin to wipe off her fingers. “I’m learning what a liquor snob you are. I couldn’t very well leave that to chance.”

Reanden chuckled and glanced at the label. “Alderaanian is always a good choice,” he said, “and easier to get here than on Dromund Kaas.”

“So I learned.” She handed him the plate, taking the glass of wine from him and sipping from it. Her eyes held his over the rim. “Couch?”

He nodded, watching as she turned, making her way over to the overstuffed lounger. Firelight surrounded her like an aura and he sighed, swallowing back the knot that lodged in his throat. Smile twitching across his lips, he followed behind and settled, turning to face her. He placed the plate between them, resting on the middle cushion.

Mairen offered him the wine glass. He took it and took a tentative sip of the golden liquid. It was, as he suspected, very smooth, and had a slightly sweet finish. Looking back up, he found her watching him. “What?”

“I take it that the wine meets approval?”

“Hmm,” he said, settling against the back of the sofa, his arm extended beside hers along the back. He placed his hand over her forearm. “The wine. The room. The company…” A blush crept across the bridge of her nose, spreading across her cheeks. “Thank you, Mairen.”

She chewed her bite of fruit slowly, eyes dancing. “You’re quite welcome, Reanden.” Her lips quirked sideways. “Though I confess it’s not entirely altruistic.”

“Oh?”

“I needed the break, too.” She offered him a bite of cheese. “And the company.”

He took the bite from her, allowing his teeth to graze over her fingertips as he drew back. She laughed and he smiled. It was a wonder to see her like this. Was _this_ what she would be like as anything other than a deep cover operative? As a Jedi? He wanted very much for her to stay this way… but the storm and stress of their current assignment wouldn’t allow it. The shadow of the Dark Side -- that line she had to constantly tread -- loomed over her always. He had not realized until that moment quite how heavily this assignment must weigh on her.

“Well,” he drawled, “if it’s any consolation, I’d hate to be here without you. We’ve… become quite a team -- a pair.” He felt something in his chest tighten and he paused. “I never would have expected it.”

Her fingers trailed over his as she slipped the wine glass from his grip, chuckling. “Not considering the way we met,” she said, taking a drink. “Or the way we bicker.”

“The bickering only adds to the fun.” Reanden winked at her, popping a slice of the dried fruit into his mouth. “It takes a strong personality -- a strong person -- to do this job. A trait you have in spades… and one I have grown to appreciate.”

Mairen regarded him for a long moment, eyes narrowed in appraisal, something approaching a smile curving her lips. It was contemplative, thoughtful, her gaze seeming to trace his features as his had done so to hers earlier. “Thank you,” she said finally. “I have to confess that I didn’t care for you much when we first met.”

He snorted. “The feeling was entirely mutual, m’lord, I assure you.”

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes, “ _that_ much was apparent, even without sensing you.” She tore off a piece of the flatbread. “You really confused me that night, you know? And it only got worse when I read your dossier.”

“You read my dossier?”

Her brow arched. “And you didn’t read mine?”

“Point taken,” he replied with a chuckle. “So what was it that confused such a brilliant mind as yours?” There was only a hint of sarcasm in his tone, poking at her in a familiar manner.

She didn’t disappoint, regarding him with a smirk, eyes sparking. “It was so impossible to understand how a man who, by all accounts, was an exemplary diplomat yet pissed off just about every superior -- civilian and Sith alike -- that he ever worked with.” She shook her head. “At first I thought it might have something to do with your family: Your parents and your brother, as much as your wife and children. But I realized that couldn’t be _all_ of it; they were a large portion of it, but there had to be something more. So many things about you clicked into place once I discovered _you_ were my principal agent.”

Tilting his head to the side, he watched her with a sidelong glance, forcing an amused light to his eyes even as he felt a chill wash over him. Would she see the goosebumps? “Surely not _everyone_ …”

Her hand smoothed over his arm and she offered him a quiet, teasing smile. “Have you read your _own_ dossier?” she asked.

Reanden gave a laugh, averting his eyes. He pulled off a piece of flatbread and a silence drifted over them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just… heavy, full of questions that lurked in the aether. As he placed a bit of the cold cut and cheese on the bread, he could feel her watching him. He knew what she wanted to ask. Drawing a deep breath, he looked up at her. “You can ask. You’ve earned that.”

“I… didn’t want to ruin the holiday.”

He shook his head. “You won’t. We…” he said, allowing the word to hang, and finally just shoving the food into his mouth. Pausing, he chewed his bite. “Whatever else we are, Mai, we’re friends. And… you should feel like you can ask.”

She watched him for another long moment. He could almost sense the moment that she finally decided to ask, taking a sip of her wine and turning her hand to cradle his arm. “What was she like?”

He stayed still for a long moment. Memories that he’d tried to not think about came tearing through his mind, bringing with them a rush of nostalgia and bittersweet aching. For a moment, all he could see was long flame-coloured hair in loose curls around a pretty face, sparkling green eyes, and a raised eyebrow that would have looked annoyed if she hadn’t been laughing… “Fire, ” he finally answered. “She was like a fire -- bright, warm; burning those who were less than careful with her.” He softly chuckled and shook his head. “The first time I met her, we were each on assignment to kill each other, and I’m still not sure how we both got out of that alive and married to each other. She’s the one who managed the impossible and got me to swear to the Republic.”

He smiled at the memories, even if the expression was tinged with old sadness. “She was… stubborn, and brave, and somehow always right… and heaven help whoever got between her and those she loved.” _That was how she died, dammit._ Not for the first time, he silently cursed his brother’s name for what he’d done to Airna, what he’d nearly done to the twins. “From everything I’ve been told, my oldest daughter turned out almost exactly like her.” He finally looked back at Mairen and shifted his arm so he could squeeze her hand. “You two would have gotten along famously, if you’d met. She would have liked you.”

For her part, Mairen returned the smile, somewhat bittersweet, as she returned the gesture. “Or she would have hated me,” she chuckled, “because we were too much alike.” She paused. “I did wonder what it took to turn the head of the very deadly, very loyal Reanden Taerich.”

He chuckled at that. “At first, to be honest, I think it was a combination of ‘pretty, mysterious Jedi Knight’ and ‘being completely unafraid to tell me where I could go and how I could get there’. My excuse for not killing her the first time I had a chance was… she made things interesting, and life would have been boring without a Jedi nemesis to try and kick my ass at every given chance.” He grinned at the memories. “Of course, saying that after I’d poisoned her and left her paralyzed, but alive, in a caretaker’s closet may not have been my wisest idea, because she _did_ hand my ass to me the next time I ran into her. I think the only reason she didn’t kill me then was because she found a better use of her time in taking on a couple of spice runners.”

A wry grin tugged at her lips as she looked to him, her thumb sweeping across his fingers. “Yes, Force forbid you ever have a boring life,” she teased. She took a sip of the wine, eyes still alight over the rim. “I’m suddenly glad we’re _sharing_ this glass of wine. I imagine you’re less likely to poison yourself…”

“Is now a bad time to tell you I’ve immunized myself to a handful of common poisons…?”

“You --” Snatching her hand free, she slapped playfully at his chest. “ _Not_ funny.”

“Ow!” He laughed and took the slap before catching her hand again. “No, you’re right… that was hilarious.” He grinned wickedly. “Besides, don’t you Force-users have some sort of mystical toxin purging ability, or is that merely a legend, m’lord?”

She tried tugging her hand free, but he held fast. “Only,” she said through clenched teeth, “if you’re trained for it, _Agent Taerich_ , or predisposed to it.” Her eyes flickered to his chest, a wicked grin slowly spreading across her features.

“Oh? Is that --” He jumped, eyes widening comically as he felt an invisible nudge against his ribs, right where he swore up and down that he was _not_ ticklish. “Blasted _Jedi!_ ” he exclaimed as he squirmed away from the poke. “I hope you know, _m’lord_ , that was one of the more dangerous things you could have done…” he said, a slow, evil grin appearing on his lips as his free hand grabbed the plate between them and moved it out of harm’s way.

Mairen reached blindly to her right, placing the wine glass onto the caf table, her gaze not leaving his. She arched a finely manicured brow. “Sure you can back that threat up, _Agent Taerich_?” The corner of her mouth quirked upward.

His evil grin widened. “Just try me,” he murmured as he caught her other hand and swiftly leaned in to pin her to the couch under him, his lips already seeking out the sensitive skin around her pulse point, right where he could taunt her.

“You’ll have to… work harder than that, Agent,” she said, but her voice wavered and he could feel the quickening of her pulse under his attentions, the warmth rising in her skin as blood coursed through her.

He grinned against her skin and just grazed his teeth over her earlobe, earning a soft gasp. His own blood surged in response, his voice low, husky as he whispered, “As my lord commands.”


	4. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can ask. He's earned that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bonding in the intimate moments before they drift off to sleep. 
> 
> Written by Ginger, with input/review by Keldae.

_**Nar Shaddaa** _  
_**3640 BBY | 13 ATC** _

They lay together in the expansive bed, Reanden on his back, Mairen curled into his right side, her head pillowed on his shoulder. The fingers of his right hand traced a lazy path on her hip -- up and down up and down -- his touch light against the skin. She hummed. “Tickles, you know,” she managed. Sleep had thickened her tongue, slowed her speech.

She felt the exhale of his chuckle, the rumble of his voice through his torso. “Mmmhmm,” came the reply. “Payback.”

“Bastard.” Her own chuckle rippled through her. “Still awake?”

“Mmmhmm.”

He had made every effort to seem equally as tired and lethargic and he was -- but only partially. She could sense the remaining tension across his chest, in his jaw; in his arm, currently curled around her. Raising her head, she peered down at him, seeing his open eyes, blinking slowly. He glanced at her. A smile tugged at his lips.

Mairen returned the smile. “You _can_ ask, you know,” she said, echoing his words.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile deepened and he gave another exhaled chuckle. His arm tightened around her briefly, hugging her to him. “Am I that obvious?”

“To me,” she said. “Your blocks work well enough, but I can feel it in your chest. If anyone else were close enough to tell, I… might have a problem with that.”

His expression sobered slightly, eyes searching hers in the shadow that enveloped the room. He reached up with his free hand and smoothed back the wavy mass of hair at her right temple. “I might have a problem with that, too,” he replied quietly. Understanding settled between them and he nodded. Trailing a finger down her cheek, he brought his hand down to cover hers on his chest. He looked at her a long moment before he finally spoke again. “What made you stay?”

“After the treaty?” He nodded. Allowing her gaze to drop to their hands, joined now on his chest, she studied them a moment. She knew the truth -- had understood it for a long while. But she had never voiced it aloud. “I was too frightened to go home.”

“You couldn’t face your family.”

It was said as a statement, not a question. Mairen nodded. “I lied to them -- all of them -- in the aftermath of Dad’s death. They needed me, and I… needed to do this. In his memory. And then the war was over, and I didn’t really know what to do. I didn’t think I could go home again, not and face them. So when the SIS offered me a way out, I… politely declined.

“I rationalized it,” she continued, “by telling myself that I was still providing a service to the Republic, still serving his memory. I suppose that I am. I’ve certainly supplied my share of secrets.” She paused, squeezing his hand. “And if I had gone home, I might never have met you. I can’t regret that.”

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you stayed, too.” The smile broadened and his arm tightened around her as his lips pressed against her forehead. “We should try and get some rest.”

Mairen felt warmth bloom in her chest, her expression mirroring his. Dropping a kiss to his chest, she shifted her attention back to his eyes, his features. They lay for a long moment, silence around them, the mass of unspoken thoughts, unacknowledged feelings between them. Finally, with one last twitching smile, she settled back in, head once again pillowed on his chest. “Good night, Reanden.”

As she settled in, his fingers trailed along her hip once more. She reached up and swatted at him, felt his laugh rumble through his chest. The humor still lit his voice as he said, “Good night, Mairen.”


	5. Ghost of Life Day Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she felt the nudge to her Force connection, Mairen knew something -- or someone -- wanted her attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Kel and I really discussed taking this out. It seemed too... over the top. Ultimately, I opted to leave it in. Why? Because what's a good Life Day story without a ghost? Definitely taking my notes from Charles Dickens here. It also helps that I alluded to a later event without realizing it...
> 
> As with everything, posted sans beta, though I do my best to self edit.

_**Nar Shaddaa** _   
_**3640 BBY | 13 ATC** _

A cool glow flickered across her vision and Mairen squeezed her eyes closed more tightly. Still curled into Reanden’s side, his arm around her even as his breathing was slow and deep, she was warm and safe and comfortable, and not inclined to move. But when she felt the nudge to her Force connection she knew something -- or someone -- wanted her attention. She allowed one eye to open, then the other. She struggled not to give a start as she looked up to the source.

Hovering opposite her, on Reanden’s side of the bed, was a woman, transparent and shining in the Force. She wore trousers and a wrap top reminiscent of Jedi robes, her long, wavy hair swept to one side and resting on her shoulder. Mairen could feel amusement and an impish humor radiating from her. The figure placed a finger against her lips, signalling for quiet, then gestured toward the living area of the suite. Mairen nodded, easing from the warm embrace reluctantly. She reached for her robe, even as the woman faded into the next room.

She was still tying the sash as she waved the bedroom door closed. Her gaze settled on the vision, amusement creeping into her own features. “Airna Taerich, I presume?”

“You’d presume correctly.”

Mairen felt warmth bloom across her cheeks. “I-I..” She shook her head, unable to find words. What _did_ one say to the Force apparition of their lover’s wife? She settled for honesty. “I don’t know what to say.”

Airna gave a chuckle. “I would… probably feel the same way, were I in your shoes…” Her gaze drifted down to the Jedi’s bare feet. “Well, in your robe,” she corrected. “I’ll admit it's odd seeing the man I married in bed with someone else." She looked to the door through which Reanden still slept, out cold and unaware of her presence. “I didn’t think I ever would.”

“I feel vaguely as though I should apologize and yet… not?” Mairen regarded her with a furrowed brow, struggling to wrap her mind around the conversation she was currently having. She wrapped her arms around herself. “He’s missed you.”

“I know he has.” The apparition nodded. "It's not healthy for him to still be clinging to my memory years on. I’d honestly feared he would never fully move on. But you're the first person, outside of our twins, to make him smile since my death.”

Reaching up, Mairen tucked a lock of her own red hair behind her ear, swallowing back the lump that seemed to rise in her throat. “It’s a shame,” she said, her voice surprisingly heavy. “The weight of the world seems to lift, just for a moment.” A smile flickered across her own lips. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” Airna paused, taking measure with a critical eye. Her expression shifted, taking on a hint of sadness. “You’re good for him,” she finally said, “more than you realize.”

“We’re… good for each other,” Mairen replied. “You probably know it didn’t start out that way; from our first meeting, we bickered constantly. It seemed he always wanted to keep me at arm’s length, to keep me from realizing the asshole was, in my case at least, mostly an act. Then I found out he was my principal agent…” She shook her head at the memory. “So much fell into place about him. We’ve grown so much closer since then, shared interests and all, I suppose.”

Airna pursed her lips. “He despises them as much as you do -- maybe more.”

“He has good reason to -- I’ve met his brother.”

There was a surge of panic, and Airna struggled to dissipate it into the Force around them. “Be wary of Maglion, Mairen,” she said. “If he ever finds out who you truly are, that his brother found another Jedi…”

“I know.” Mairen nodded. She looked up to Airna, her own eyes narrowing in appraisal. “He’s the reason you died, isn’t he?”

“He came for my children,” Airna said. “I had to try and stop him. But Reanden was gone, and Maglion had the advantage that night.” She paused. “We tried so hard to get them to the Republic, to Corellia but Sorand… he’s still surrounded by darkness.”

The Jedi felt her chest constrict, the thought of any child -- especially a Jedi by birth and training -- caught in the roiling emotion and political machinations of the Sith Academy. “If I get the chance,” Mairen started slowly, “I’ll do what I can for him.”

Emotion surged through the Force, and Airna nodded. “Thank you for that.”

“They deserve it.” Mairen offered a rueful smile. “They’ve been through enough.”

Airna glanced over her shoulder and Mairen could sense Reanden stirring in the next room. The Force ghost shifted her attention back. “There’s more trouble ahead,” she said. “But you’ll face it together and be stronger for it -- all of you.” She straightened. “Take care of them.”

Mai swallowed. “I will.”

“Yes,” Airna said as she faded. “I think you will.”

Blinking back the sting in her eyes, Mairen heard the door slip open behind her, followed by the soft padding of his footsteps on the plush carpet. “Mai? You all right?”

Turning, she found him a few steps behind her, clad now in his undershorts, hair alternately matted and toussled. His brows were knit in concern, forehead creased as he regarded her. She stepped forward, reaching to rake her hand through the thick mass of hair. His hands came to rest on her hips as usual. “I’m fine,” she said. She slipped her arms around his neck. “We’ve still got a few hours till breakfast. A man your age should still be in bed.”

His hands slipped further around her, palms curving around her seat and drawing her closer. A lopsided grin curled across his features as he leaned in to brush his lips against hers. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”


	6. Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reanden Taerich was happy. And so, it seemed, was she.
> 
> Oh, she was in so far over her head.

_**Nar Shaddaa** _  
_**3640 BBY | 13 ATC** _

Clad now in the deep burgundy and gold robes she favored for her Sith persona, Mairen hovered by the table and leaned on the back of the chair before her. Remnants of their breakfast still lingered -- empty plates and cups; spare rolls; a half-empty pot of tea, gone cold as it was forgotten in favor of other pursuits. It would all wait for housekeeping to swoop in and begin the process to prepare the room for the next visitors.

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention and she looked up in time to see Reanden emerge from the bedroom, his duffel in hand. A rueful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I believe this has been the quickest three days I’ve had since arriving in Imperial space,” she said with a sigh.

“I wish it didn’t have to end,” Reanden murmured in agreement. He set the duffle down on the couch, but didn’t yet reach for the jacket draped over the back. Instead, he came around to Mairen, resting his hands on hers. “Mai… I can’t thank you enough. I can’t remember the last time I was on anything close to a vacation like this.”

“As I said, I think we _both_ needed to… run away for a while.” Her green-hazel eyes traced his features, her gaze warm with affection and a hint of awe. “And I’m so very glad you’ve enjoyed our little rendezvous.” There was a flicker of uncertainty as she looked up at him, quickly hidden behind a lopsided grin and impish gleam. “Maybe we should try it again sometime.”

Fine lines creased around Reanden’s eyes as he smiled, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against hers. “Next one’s on me,” he murmured, giving her a tender kiss as his hands squeezed hers. “I’ve already got just the place in mind.”

Mairen hummed into the kiss, smiling at him as he drew back. “Oh? Would it do me any good to ask where?” she asked. “Or should I plan on a retaliatory surprise?”

That got a chuckle and a sly wink. “I can hardly give away my plans, especially after you went through all this effort to surprise you.” Reanden grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe I’ll just stage a kidnapping to get you out of the Kaas system. I know some people I could probably get to help…”

“The mastermind brigand kidnapping the maiden to steal her virtue?” Her eyebrow arched. “Whatever will I do? Especially as, after this weekend, I certainly _have_ no virtue…”

“Are you sure?” Reanden’s eyes glinted wickedly as he leaned in to kiss and nibble his way along her jawline. “Perhaps I should make absolutely certain of that. We can’t have you leaving here with a trace of virtue left.”

“Force, Reanden,” she breathed. “I left any virtue I ever had in a holocall booth on Nar Shaddaa.” A throaty giggle rumbled through her. “Insatiable old man.”

“Hmmm. And yet, I don’t seem to hear you protesting in earnest,” Reanden murmured, grinning against Mairen’s skin as he just grazed her earlobe. “Perhaps I should--”

The sound of a chime interrupted his words. The older spy tensed, habitually reaching for his blaster until a muffled voice came through the door. “Housekeeping!”

“Blast it,” Reanden muttered, pulling back to scowl at the offending door. “Aren’t they supposed to wait until _after_ checkout?”

Mairen smoothed her hand over the hair at the nape of his neck, humming. “Getting an early start, I suppose,” she replied. Her attention skirted over the room. It was largely intact, with only a few stray items remaining -- half-forgotten wine glasses, extra sheets and blankets twisted together before the fireplace, and then the remnants of their breakfast on the table before them. In the bedroom, the bedsheets were of course in _total_ disarray, comforter and sheet dragging the floor at the foot of the bed, pillows strewn every direction… and soaking wet, after a brief _detour_ after their first shower of the morning. It wouldn’t be a difficult clean up, but it would be a bit time consuming.

But then the door slid aside. A petite humanoid, wrinkled yellow skin stretched across subtle features, stood just on the threshold, beady eyes wide as she took in the sight before her. “I…’ll come back.”

Blaster in one hand, the other having found its way to Mai’s waist, Reanden glared at the housekeeper. “Yes,” he replied. “You do that.” His tone brooked no argument. He watched her with the same glare until she backed out and the door once again slid closed. It was only then that he holstered his weapon.

Turning his attention back to Mairen, he found the Jedi watching him, amusement plain across her features. “What?”

“Not a thing,” she replied, chuckling as she shook her head. As her laughter faded, eyes crinkled at the corners, fingernails raking through the shorter hair over his left ear. Her fingers teased his neck and her hands smoothed over his chest. “Sorand staying with you for a few days?”

“Mmm. He and Aryn both have a few days off for the festivities. She’s coming by just for a day or so, but he’s sticking around for a few. Mostly so he doesn’t have to go back to Korriban so soon.” Reanden sighed, the reminder of his son’s struggles in the Sith Academy throwing a shadow over his relaxed mood. Sorand was strong with the Force, and clever as hell, and knew how Sith politics and rivalries worked well enough to use them to his advantage. But stars, that was not where he’d wanted his youngest son to end up. If he could get the teenager out of the Empire without risking his brother going on another murder spree…

But that was not a subject to think about, not now, when he was savouring his last minutes of being here, with Mairen, out of the Empire’s reach for now. He rested his forehead against hers and gently nuzzled her nose. “I hate to think of you spending the holiday alone,” he said.

“I’m a big girl, Reanden.” A rueful grin tugged at the corner of her mouth, gentle gaze tracing his features as she pulled back only enough to look to him. “It’s not my favorite way to spend the time, no,” she conceded. “But I won’t intrude on your time with Sorand and Aryn. Nor, I think, are either of us prepared to answer questions.”

His lips thinned and he sighed. “No,” he began slowly, “and Aryn -- I doubt she’d respect our discretion for very long… especially not if she thought she could gain something from it.” Reaching up, he cradled her cheek against his palm, thumb caressing the skin. An impish gleam kindled in his hazel eyes. “Nothing that says I can’t… step out… after Sorand calls it a night.”

Mairen grimaced. “Reanden --”

“Shh.” The spy placed his index finger gently against her lips and shook his head. “You’re right -- I’m not ready to answer questions,” he replied. His hand returned to her cheek, eyes taking on an affectionate warmth, tempered by a hint of uncertainty. “But I… I’d like to spend the holiday with you. Or at least part of it. If we can manage.”

She was struck by the tenderness and the apprehension as they rolled over him and through him -- something she should never have been able to sense, given the strength of his shielding. Was it just her imagination? A reflection of her own feelings? Force knew she was wading in deep waters now.

Swallowing the knot that rose in her throat, she offered him a smile. Her voice emerged an octave lower, heavy with what she couldn’t yet say. “I’d like that. Very much.”

“Wait up for me?”

“I could...add you to the access controls? Then, if you were late, you could just slip into bed next to me.” Mairen knew her own uncertainty was on display in the smile flickering across her lips. “And, if anything more drastic were to happen, you’d be able to secure my apartment.”

“Yes… yes, that’s not a bad idea.” Reanden offered a smirk, mostly to cover how his heart had just skipped a beat. Offering access to the other’s living quarters… that was something significant, he could feel. But it hardly… it was for practicality reasons. “Force knows I’m over often enough anyway,” he teasingly murmured.

The Jedi released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, a laugh emerging that was both resonant and relieved. Her hands slipped around his waist, burrowing into the warmth between his torso and leatheris jacket, fingers curling into his shirt. “That you are,” she replied. “Even if your place is more comfortable.”

Leaning forward, Reanden brushed his lips over hers, smiles flickering together. “But you, m’lord, have a much more inviting bed -- soft sheets -- fluffy pillows --” He punctuated each observation with a brief kiss. “Warm, smooth skin…”

“We’re supposed to be _leaving_ ,” Mairen said with a throaty chuckle. She reeled him closer. The thought of parting struck a painful chord within her. “Seems we’re doing a poor job of it.”

“And I don’t suppose lingering long enough to irritate hotel management is going to do us any favours…” He gave a lopsided grin, brushing a light kiss across the tip of her nose before slowly pulling away. “See you tomorrow night?”

At this, Mairen nodded and returned the grin. His hand trailed down her arm to take her own, even as he stepped toward the door. “I’ll be waiting,” she replied, his grip tightening briefly. It was with a strong sense of reluctance that they released their hold; his fingers trailed over her palm, drawing out the contact as long as possible. When he turned, he adjusted his duffel over his shoulder and stepped out into the corridor. He offered her one last smile as the door slid closed.

She sighed. The twinkle in his eyes melted her, the warmth and affection radiating from him over the past few days unmistakeable. Happy -- Reanden Taerich was _happy_. And so, it seemed, was she.

  
She was in _so_ far over her head.

* * *

 


End file.
